Adventure of the Beast Hero
by Tempallus
Summary: Do not be mistaken. Naofumi is not the main character here. This story touches the topic of "What if there was a fifth hero?" This is not a self-insert. This story was made to entertain those who can't wait for Season 2 of Shield Hero and don't want to read ahead in the Manga, or just want to brush up on the ending events of season 1.


**A/N Greetings all! I am Tempallus, and I would like to present to you what I think what having a fifth hero would be like in the Rise of the Shield Hero universe. This is not going to be following Naofumi and our beloved Raphtalia and Filo, but rather the "Beast Hero" as he struggles through this world. This is by no means a self-insert. I made this to help me and those who cannot wait for season two of Shield Hero enjoy the universe a bit more without reading ahead in the manga, or losing touch with the events following the end of season one. Without further ado, please enjoy this 2am production of insomnia and an overactive mind!**

Our story begins with the aftermath of the "Trash" and "Whore" trials. Trash is hurriedly looking for some sort of edge, or a notion of control over the Shield Hero, and through the connections he still had throughout the royal palace, he learned of an ancient legend. One that predated the four cardinal heroes and was passed down orally from generation to generation by the progenitors of the land, with mentions throughout various texts from the long-forgotten civilization.

The legend spoke of the horrors of the marred, blood-red father sky and blue tear drops of mother earth's fear swirling in the sea of red. When creatures far beyond comprehension invaded lands, slaughtered villages, and wrought havoc upon the ancients, the shamans of the time got together in order to ask mother earth for any form of help to the panic-stricken people of ancient times. Her response was simple:

"_A hero of the people, champion of lands. A beastly king to destroy the foes, intent on death and destruction. A demigod, both beast and man, born with help from human hands. But subordinate to kings and eager for instructions."_

That was the chant the shamans sang in order to summon the hero of the people, who would defend them from impending doom. From the summoning that exhausted the life of all shamans involved, came a single figure - the Beast Hero.

From then on, records indicating the presence of the Beast Hero diverged. Some described the hero as a shape-shifter who was skilled in the arts of deception and illusion, while others depicted the hero as a valiant wolf that fought on the frontlines and spearheaded attacks on the otherworldly invaders. Still, others recalled a simple human with a connection to the wilds of the world, calling upon the forests to fight for him. As later and later entries in the history of this forgotten country went on, the mention of the Hero was completely dropped, as though they vanished completely from the world.

"Hmm…" Trash muttered to himself. "If the legend really is true, then perhaps I still have a faint glimmer of hope."

"A hope of what?" A sharp voice pierced the silence of the former king's private study. "I thought I had ordered the lock to this study changed. What are you doing here Au- no, Trash?"

The ex-king turned around to see the Queen standing, glaring disapprovingly down her nose at him.

"A-ah, my queen! You see, I had simply forgotten some personal effects in here so I kindly asked one of the guards to-" Trash began.

"Since you were stripped of your title of king, you have no personal effects. You are to serve as an adventurer or a soldier, and have no personal holdings whatsoever." The Queen cut him off. "Guards, remove Trash from the royal private study immediately."

"Yes, your majesty!" Two voices boomed from just outside the door. With that, the Queen watched the former king as he was dragged off by the two guards, his pleading to "retrieve his belongings" falling on deaf ears. She sighed.

"What was he plotting this ti-" the Queen paused mid-sentence as she saw the scrolls that her husband had splayed across the heavy wooden table. She was taken aback, and gasped. "There's a fifth hero?!"

Jonathan Schmidt led what could be called a sub-standard life. He was a college student in his Junior year pursuing a degree that he had not even decided on yet. He had made the mistake of not trying to make any friends when he first entered college, so he was officially "the weird guy" that was to be avoided, even by his roommate. His parents, despite how much they loved him, were utterly infuriated by the fact that he was wasting money and time in college without even deciding on a degree, and had, that year, stopped paying for his college until he made up his mind. He was also in a substantial amount of credit card debt, as he had failed to read the fine print on the contract he signed. To top it all off, the apartment he was staying in to cut the cost of living expenses reeked of mold and had bugs and rodents absolutely everywhere imaginable.

In almost every aspect of the term, he was down in the dumps. He was on a road to nowhere, had achieved nothing in life, and he never really got to enjoy anything either. So when he was on his usual expedition to the bookstore to scrounge around for discounted textbooks for the upcoming semester, or for any items in the community lost and found that nobody would care if they went missing, he was pleasantly surprised when he found a strange, ornate book in the back of the library section that he had never seen before.

It was royal purple, and had golden bands with a Fleur de Lis decorating the spine of the book. The cover, too, was decorated with gold, embroidered lettering. It was also a very thick book, perhaps around 600 pages. "The Tale of the Ancient Hero of Beasts". John mumbled aloud. The librarian Mrs. Buchleser was making her rounds to replace returned and misplaced books and noticed Jonathan, so she decided to greet him.

"Back again, are we John? I swear, you're here almost every other day. Sometimes I think you begin to fancy this old bag of bones. Heh!" She joked, pausing to place a few ancient history books on the shelf just below from where he got the book.

"You know me, Mrs. Leser. Always need to keep you in a good mood to get the best discounts when I check out with you." He palmed the book between his hands, inspecting both sides of the cover, before he smiled tiredly at her.

"That's BUCHleser, John. For Pete's sake it's two syllables!" Noticing the book he held in his hands, she said calmly, "I don't ever remember that book. I may be up in years, but I can recall almost every uniquely covered book that came through this place. That one isn't in this old noggin'. I'm willing to bet some kid just left their book here. Here, let me see it."

John passed her the book, and she eyed it up and down. "Hmm… looks fairly new. There's not a spot or stain on the thing, but the pages don't have that new-book smell. There's no crease in the spine and- oof! For the life of me I can't seem to open it. Whoever left it here must not have wanted it." She handed him the book back, resuming her duty. "Did you want that book John?"

"Well, it'd be a nice break from all the studying I'm doing, but it's not a library book so can I really have it?" He replied, rubbing the back of his head.

"Tell you what," she said over her shoulder, walking further down the rows of bookshelves, "When I'm done putting these books away, meet me up front at the checkout. We'll call it a personal item and I'll give it to you for five dollars if you really want it."

After roughly twenty more minutes of returning books, John met with Mrs. Buchleser at the checkout. "So, you really want that book huh?" She asked, rubbing some hand lotion into her old hands.

"Yeah," John sighed. "After I picked it up I just couldn't seem to put it back down. Besides, I think it'd be a good change of pace. I need a little excitement in my mundane life, ya know? Thanks for the book." John slid her his credit card.

"You and me both, John. Don't get me wrong, it's nice to see someone come here often, but the whole 'are there any discounts?' bit gets old real quick." They both shared a chuckle.

Then Mrs. Buchleser frowned. "John do you have any cash on you?" she looked at him, understanding in her eyes.

"No, I don't. I'm sorry Mrs. Buchleser, I'll come back once I get some-" He began.

"Just take the book." she cut him off. "It's sad to see you like this John. There's a saying that goes _loose lips sink ships._ Rarely anybody comes here so nobody will even know it's gone let alone that it was here." She sighed, ushering the youth out the front door. "I know how you feel, John, because I was there too. Just hang in there, alright? You can treat me to dinner sometime like the polite young man I know you are."

"Thanks again, Mrs. Buchleser. It means a lot. I promise you a nice steak dinner once I'm rich and famous." He pulled up his hood, and, noticing that it was just starting to rain, put the book underneath his shirt and hunched over so as to not get it wet.

"Right, right, John. I'll see you around."  
"See you Mrs. Leser!"

"BUCH-leser!"

With that final interaction, John began a light jog back to his dingy apartment complex. _I hope I remembered my keys_. His neighbors were mostly potheads, druggies, and alcoholics, so he didn't need to worry about rousing them from whatever stage of addiction they were at, and the landlord only ever showed up to take rent.

Closing his door, John flicked on the lights and plopped down onto the wobbly wooden kitchen chair that had one leg just short enough that he could treat it like a rocking chair. The familiar scent of rotting wood and mold filled his nostrils. "Now, let's see what sort of secrets you have in store for me." He said, pulling the book from his slightly damp shirt. Looking the cover over once more, John went to open the book. "Mrs. Buchleser said she couldn't open you, but let's see here..."

As John went to pull open the cover, a bright purple light emitted from the book, temporarily blinding him. Reeling back, he dropped the book onto the table and stood up out of his chair. The book opened itself and began rapidly flipping through the pages, an intangible wind causing the pages to almost tear. Thunder boomed in John's ears as the light grew brighter, forcing John to throw up his arms to protect his eyes, which he had already slammed shut. The thunder and light grew louder and louder until finally the room went silent.

Opening his eyes, John was met with stone pillars and suits of armor. Looking down, on his right had was a gauntlet with three blades coming from where the fingers of a normal gauntlet would have been. In the center of the back of the gauntlet was a purple sphere. Fiddling with it, it seemed like it wasn't coming off any time soon. Finally looking at his immediate vicinity, he noticed what looked to be a summoning circle, twenty robed figures kneeling in what seemed like exhaustion, and seemingly a queen and her daughter or perhaps royal aide staring at him in disbelief. He blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "Toto, we aren't in Kansas anymore…"


End file.
